Sweet Menace

Copyright © 2015 N.I. Rojas

All rights reserved. No part of this work can be reproduced, distributed or transmitted by no means without the author’s written authorization.

Characters and situations in this novel are completely fictional. Any similarity to real persons -dead or alive- is just a coincidence and not the author’s intention.

Table
of Content

Chapter 1: Reason is not required

Chapter 2: Virginity Blanket

Chapter 3: Another Witch?

Chapter 4: A fine gentleman

Chapter 5: Deserved Punishment

Chapter 6: Midnight’s Sweet Treats

Chapter 7: Surprise, Surprise

Chapter 8: Lost and Found

Chapter 9: Is not magic but Maghik

Chapter 10: Witches or Bitches

Chapter 11:Not Broken

Chapter 12: Till death set us apart

Chapter 13: Melt

Chapter 14: Betrayed

Chapter 15: How much I cost to you?

Chapter 16: Forced Maghik… Not Good For The Soul

Chapter 17: Sisterhood

Chapter 18: Give them some

Chapter 19: Dead Witch Walking

Chapter 20: Marks in the Sky

Chapter 21:Kiss Me Good bye

About the author:

To my family:

For feeding my reckless dreams and for appeasing my worst anger. For nourishing my voracious hunger for reading and supporting my crazy desire of writing despite I was only six.

Thank you for so much love in a world that seems to have lost the magic.

“I may be a cruel & heartless witch but I’m so dang good at it.”

-Morgan Caprice

Don’t ask me why. You’ll discover it as soon as you know me. If you dare make fun of me, I’ll make you eat as well.

I’m looking for the best recipe to perform my plan. Maybe a soft and rich crème brûlée. A decadent caramelized chocolate custard perhaps. It has to be something big, something extraordinarily good to make the whole town eat beyond satisfaction.

A dessert so exquisite that it would be worth dying for.

Sweet Menace

N.I. Rojas

Last night I didn’t go to bed. Weddings require all my time and devotion. With a snap of my fingers I could have fixed it all in a matter of minutes, but I’m an old school confectioner. This time, it wasn’t the cake or the food or the welcome cocktail what kept me awake. Neither was the killer plan shoved aside again and again. This party would’ve been a great opportunity for vengeance and I was already regretting letting the chance go.

Staring at the opaque violet dress hanging in my closet I keep thinking how I let myself compromise into this. One thing is to organize everything eatable in a party, the details, and the cut of the perfect cake… another thing was to be convinced into being the Maid of Honor. Convinced may not be the right word, rather I would say deceived, tricked, forced. But that evening when Lavender, my cousin, came talking about her wedding, asking me to make the most beautiful and perfect wedding cake with her eyes gleaming like bonfire, I couldn’t deny her this happiness.

“And another thing;” -Lavender said hugging me while she kept jumping like a hyper rabbit, -“You’re my Maid of Honor.”

I remember laughing so hard that moment, but she knew my laughter was so full of sarcasm as no other.

“Morgan, it’s not a joke. Why are you laughing?” -I remember Lavender asking me with offended look.

“Sorry, Lav. We both know you can do better than this.” -I said pointing to my whole body. -“You’ve good friends. Pick someone else.”

My face was unsympathetic during the whole conversation because I was uncomfortable being added to something like that. It made me feel like a circus animal.

“I don’t care about others. I want you there with me.”

“And I’ll be there. I love you too much.” -And it was true. Every feeling. Though I always kept repeating myself just the contrary. Lavender was the only person I loved in the whole world. -“Let’s do something. You pick another girl. I’ll give you the best wedding cake ever, the cocktail and the food as well. It will be my gift to you. You just have to pick someone else.”

Lavender turned around and I suspected she was considering my extremely generous offer. It was generous indeed. That would cost her thousands of dollars.

“You’ve been with me during my whole life, supporting my dreams, washing my tears. There’s no better gift than having you there by my side. I can’t say
I Do
if you are not standing by my side holding me. Maybe I’ll regret passing your offer, as that’ll save us a lot of money, but I would rather see you wearing the gorgeous dress I already picked for you.”

Time flies unnoticed sometimes. The moment to make the show shine had come way too fast. It was Lavender’s special day and thank God she didn’t fancy complicated things like rehearsals or pre-wedding dinner meetings. My self-esteem wouldn’t have withstood such abuse.

I’ve always been the best in everything I do and I always take everything into consideration. Allergies, kids menu, people with specific diets. I’m ready for anything that could happen; reason why my work is so solicited.

Shower taken, I kept looking at the dress. Would have been easier to sit there and curse until my lungs wanted to leave my body but that won’t help me overcome this. Throwing the dress over my head, I slid in it and accommodated every part of my body. With a wave I closed the zipper at my back, forcing myself to stand in front of the mirror.

“What?” -I almost yelled when I saw m
y
breast
s
peaking in the low cut v-shaped neck of my dress. A neckline as deep as this was hardly allowed in any church. Maybe that was the reason Lavender opted for a private salon. Easily I could see the joining of my ribs under my breasts if I looked in detail. -“Thanks Lavender.”

A safety pin later I looked more decent for the occasion. My hair was an easy task as Lavender wanted the hair loose with just flowers here and there. The alarm went off, alerting me I was minutes to be late and be caught making my Maghik in the reception, but heading to the door I remembered I hadn’t taken the time to consider the shoes I was going to wear.

Slipping into some scruffy flat sandals I hurried to my minivan, a modest Luxgen Sport, which was safely parked in my own private garage. A wave of my hand and everything was packed inside, in the many shelves I installed in the rear section, which I made a refrigerated cooler. For precaution, I opened the rear door and climbed in, examining every delicacy as everything needs to be perfect as usual. Éclair on hand, I sat and drove to the ceremony/reception place, where no one had arrived yet.

Humming some tune I started accommodating everything in place, hoping to surprise Lavender when she comes to the salon. The cake was an impressive artwork of four tiers, each one of a different flavor. Of course there was Lavender’s favorite: Strawberry Shortcake, crème extra whipped. Jerome’s favorite, almond chocolate with cocoa liquor. I should have poisoned this one as I initially had planned, especially because Jerome’s a jerk who doesn’t deserve someone as sweet and pure as Lavender. Maybe dignity prevented me to fulfill my plan once and for all. Maybe it was just Lavender, who doesn’t deserve me turning into a killing idiot the biggest day of her life. Maybe I was just being a stupid sentimentalist and soon after everybody leave, I’ll regret it and blame myself for this slip. So the third layer turned to be tiramisu without magic spirits, in case kids wanted a piece, which was dubious as kids hate coffee as bad as hospitals. And last but not least, a magic rainbow of flavors which would melt inside the mouth. Kids’ friendly of course. That, my friends, was just as strong as a love potion.

“Oh my! Oh my! Oh my! Morgan!” -Lavender shrieked like a little girl from behind a door. She was hiding in the dressing room, her wedding gown already on. I felt my heart melt with emotion. No. She didn’t deserve me ruining her happiness. At least not today.

“You like it?” -I hastened to ask her. -“I hope you like it.”

“Like it?” -She answered walking at me. She was just a beautiful princess living the dream I would never live. I was okay with it and happy to see her growing. -“Morgan! This is just… more than what I have imagined. You are such a monster!”

At the mention of that word I flinched.

“I mean it in the good sense of the word.” -Lavender corrected when saw my face turning pale. I hated that word so bad. -“You’ve turned my wedding into a sweet paradise. This will be the wedding every girl will envy for centuries!”

Lavender’s strong hug gave me hopes, but also wishes to cry. She was the princess of the story, and I would never be more than one evil stepsister. I know who I am. Know what I am. My aspirations are right in that same evil line. I can’t expect something bigger of a world like this but I can’t give away the grandeur of my powers just to keep this cruel world the same.

“Morgan…” -Her serious tone of voice was worrying. My thoughts returned to sleep under all the work I still had pending. -“I hope you have your matching shoes on.”

Oh, crap. The shoes. Considering my feet “problem”, I thought the shoes would be the least of Lavender’s concerns. I was wrong. Shoes seemed to be a priority to each and every girl but me. Problem is I didn’t even remember how the shoes she picked were. Thinking about it, Lavender never showed me her wedding shoes. Slyly I looked down, partly ashamed, partly curious. Lavender’s shoes were pointing at me. Glittery silver, shiny as crystal.

“Of course I have them.” -I lied.-“Slightly different, though.” -I added intelligently while waving my hand gracefully to collect the hem of my dress. Of course I had forgotten them, but Lavender didn’t have to know this. Soon, cute silver booties were embracing my weak feet, glistening with the early sun light.

“Oh, Morgan! Nice choice.” -She congratulated me and I was happy making her happy. -“Now take that safety pin away from your boobs. I chose that low cut to get you a husband.”

“I want no husband. I’ll die single and I’m proud of it. I’ll take no husband.” -I protested.

“Every fine lady deserves a fine gentleman. And you’re the finest of all damsels.” -Lavender cheered me up. -“You know your parents would be so proud of making you wife of a deserver man.”

“But they’re dead. Thank God. And I won’t marry by force, neither fall into the deception of love.” -Lavender looked at me like if I had said a blasphemy. -“Don’t get me wrong, Lav. Love is great… for some people. Not the best choice for everyone. I’m happy love is the best for you and you make us proud with everything. But I promise you, the day a man appears to prove he loves every piece of me, weird walking and everything, I’ll propose him myself.”

“I’ll pray for him to come then.” -She hugged me hard. Her feeling was sincere. -“Oh, are those my favorites?”

“Apple chickpeas crump cake! Of course it is.” -Lavender grabbed a piece and engulfed it in a second. A satisfied smile appeared on her stuffed face. -“Let the show begin. Go finish yourself, I’ll be there in a minute.”

The weeding took its curse as planned. Soon after accommodating the last of the glittered cake pops -aquamarine and lavender- in the table’s centerpieces, I found myself walking the improvised aisle. I was uncomfortable thanks to the penetrating glances of the villagers. Some of the girls were mocking me as usual, sharing laughs for my insecure walking. Worst were their voices echoing in my head, bouncing back and forth. Their whispered jokes could be heard through the whole planet Earth. I kept asking myself why I didn’t took advantage of this moment to finish them all. They deserve what was coming over their heads and houses. They deserved worse than this.

Lavender couldn’t be the excuse, I have to let this go, let her go, as when the moment comes she’ll have to die too.

My cheeks turned red for the humiliation but I kept walking for Lavender’s sake. Keeping my eyes glued to the tip of my shoes was the easiest way to see time running fast and return to the shelter of my ovens and pans.

After the vows and first kiss of marital bliss, Lavender took my hand and put it together to the best man’s.

“Don’t let this one slip off your hands.” -My lovely cousin whispered in my ear. I blushed madly when I looked at him and he was watching me fiercely amused. He muttered a greeting but I ignored him and- rescuing my hand from his claws- took my place behind the newlyweds. The best man stood right beside me, a shy smile illuminating his face. Where did they found this cute guy? Obviously he wasn’t a villager and I hadn’t seen him in my life.

Thousands of pictures taken, thousands of smiles to fake, thousands of false compliments about how beautiful and different I looked without my usual baking apron. And soon I found a way to return to what I really was. The Baker, the Caterer, the HandyGirl. At the buffet tables I answered questions about every dish and guided people to the succulent delicacies prepared with them and their allergies in mind. Guests danced and ate. Ate and danced. It was hard to understand how they had the ability to eat that much and be able to continue moving. The answer was obvious. I had used way too much of my secret ingredient this time and it had given strength to this people.

“Oh my dear.” -Hissed Mrs. Regal while chewing a Pavlova.

“How are you today, Mrs. Regal? Isn’t this a lovely celebration?” -I asked while watched Lavender dancing with her now husband. She looked so happy that somehow I envied her for it.

“Lovely, yes. But I feel so much sorrow for you, my dear.” -She said, stuffing her mouth like a pig with an apple shoved by force in the muzzle. Her celebration hat was something beyond nature. A weird sunbonnet with leaves, birds and flowers.

“How come?” -I asked, but I knew what was coming. Here we go again.

“Seems like you’ll die single. Every girl has at least a pretender but you have flour and cream. You’re just like witches from yesteryear.” -Mrs. Regal said, conscious of every word.

Maybe Mrs. Regal could humor my day. Maybe she wanted to say something and it was eating her from inside out. Perhaps she knew something she didn’t dare to tell me before.

“What you know about witches, Mrs. Regal?” -I asked with curiosity.

“Not much, I’m afraid. But I know about singleness.” -She said letting my hopes down.

“The thing is: I prefer to be the last single girl or a witch than a villager’s wife with nothing to do apart from wearing corny hats and spend her husband’s hardly earned coins.” -I argued with all the intention to sound offensive.

Defiantly I looked at the old woman’s eyes, expectant for her to continue her arguments about single woman, decency and respect to the elders.

“Excuse me, ladies. Can a humble man ask for a dance with you?” -The best man was standing right in front of me now, elbow bent behind his back, his free hand extended at me certain I was going to say yes. -“Of course I can wait for you to end the chat.”

Insecure, I looked from him to Mrs. Regal. From her to him. Mrs. Regal muttered something I couldn’t understand but she seemed amused and interested. When I blinked back again I was standing in the middle of the dance floor, hand in hand with this perfectly unknown man. The music started softly and every couple began to move painfully slowly. So did us.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt your previous conversation. You looked so… infuriated I found myself in the obligation of saving you from preach.” -He said with an amused tone.

“Thanks.” -I managed to say. A voice coming from deep inside told me to be careful. Inside, every man is a hunter looking for something. Hunters and collectors of woman, pleasure, money. Even witches.